Page 114 of Penalty Shot

“Kidding! I’m just glad you’re with someone who makes you happy. You deserve all the happiness in the world,” I gush.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m happy for you and Randall, too.”

When we part ways I realize that “happy” is an insufficient word to capture everything I’m feeling.

There’s excitement for a future I couldn’t have predicted, as well as contentment that the changes enhance rather than overturn life as we know it.

I rush home, bursting with news of Ma and Sienna.

It’s one of the countless blessings that I’m looking forward to sharing with Randall.

The day begins like any other day during hockey training camp. ThinkHunger Games, but instead of killing each other, we’re killing ourselves at the gym.

The weight room is the first arena, where we cycle through deadlifts and bench presses. That’s only the beginning of the self-inflicted pain. The real torture is saved for the explosive plyometric drills that are coupled with high intensity cardio.

I love it. Never thought I would say that, but training all summer instead of vacationing has really paid off.

What a summer. Elise and I have officially been living together for a few weeks. The best weeks.

The fact that I hadn’t been much of a decorator makes sense now. I was waiting for her to build our home together.

She’s brought gorgeous touches everywhere. Colorful pillows and eye-catching art. Way better bedsheets that smell like the flowers lingering on her skin. Great food we can eat at home instead of ordering in.

Today is the first day everyone is on the ice to work on drills and scrimmage. As a goalie, this is the best part, because the intensity finally tests our skills.

Unlike other players who can gauge their readiness by measuring speed or puck handling, my job is always going to be determined in real time.

I stop those shots, or I don’t. My reflexes are sharp, or they’re not.

Jeremy is back and looking good. There are also two other goalies skating with us. One is Soren and the other is a collegekid. Unlike all the other positions on the roster, our placements are less volatile. We’ve had up to six goalies in training camp in the past, even though it’s been Jeremy with me as backup for the last few years.

Everyone is in a great mood when we’re sent to the locker rooms to change. It’s the first day of scrimmage, so there aren’t any looming cuts.

I’m surrounded by familiar faces and new rookies. The friends I haven’t seen all summer show off pictures of their vacations or give updates on their kids. The locker room feels like a family reunion.

“Haughland, come by before you leave,” Coach Zach says.

It isn’t unusual for the coaching staff to work one-on-one with players before the season starts.

When I knock on his door, I take stock of the opportunity I’m presented. Ever since Logan and I talked about my place in the Mavericks as a second goalie, I’ve been figuring out how to get the message across that I’m ready for more. That I’m here for the team.

Actions speak louder than words, of course, but it won’t hurt to use the meeting to state my intentions.

“Sit down, Randi.” He points to the only vacant seat in a semi-circle facing his desk. The rest of the coaching staff are present with their tablets and binders.

I feel like I’m back in high school, getting in trouble.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t far from the truth.

The second Randall enters the townhouse, he usually calls out to me to find my exact location. He’s determined to kiss me first thing.

So, when I hear the front door open and close but he doesn’t call out for me, that should have been my first clue.

I’m in my office, buried in books about adaptation and cultural appropriation because I need to prepare for a class. Although the theater department chair has yet to forgive me for passing my class to Amber—and who can blame him—the English department chair enjoyed the controversy spurred byBlood Will Have Blood.

In her words, “public humanities need to be relevant in the cultural debates of our time.” She requested that I submit a syllabus covering Shakespeare and contemporary adaptations. She’ll consider it for the spring semester, which will provide the steady employment I need to feel like an adult.

The process of preparing for the course has been inspiring in other ways, as well. I’m drafting my second play, based onHamletthis time. And instead of centering on the famous dude, I’ll be focusing on Ophelia’s point of view. The madwoman’s desperation in the original play will be explored within a contemporary context of suffocating expectations imposed by academia.